


how easy it would be to show me how you feel

by spinningincircles



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Getting Together, Introspection, M/M, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25772407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningincircles/pseuds/spinningincircles
Summary: After a while, Eddie nudges Buck’s shin under the table with his foot, motioning toward the stairs with his head.“Come on,” he says. “You’re coming home with me.”“You should really buy a guy dinner first, Eds.” Buck says, because he may be exhausted, but he can’t just let Eddie get away with saying things like that.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 617





	how easy it would be to show me how you feel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elisela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/gifts).



> eli didn't even bully me into this one, i just really wanted to write it
> 
> this was supposed to be shorter but SOMEONE *glares at buck* decided to have a lot of Feelings
> 
> title from "more than words" by extreme

Buck knows it’s Eddie that sits down across from him without even picking his head up from the table. It might be weird that he can recognize his best friend just from the way he inhabits space, but right now he’s thankful for it, especially because he knows it means he won’t be forced to talk or think or _move_ until he’s ready.

24 hour shifts always feel long, but this one felt more like 24 _years_. Calls were nonstop — so much so that Buck can’t remember the last time he ate — and each one seemed closer to catastrophe than the last. His arms ache from the three people he had to do compressions on, and his leg is stiff and sore after being on his feet more than off of them. By some miracle or good karma, they didn’t lose anyone, but they _almost_ lost too many for Buck to feel like today was actually a success. 

He takes another minute to breathe and enjoy the quiet. Everyone else has left already, and B shift is already out on another call, so there’s a welcome stillness in the loft that he knows won’t linger for long. He lifts his head, resting his chin on his crossed arms, and is met with Eddie in the same position, waiting for him. He does his best to smile, but he knows it’s not up to his usual wattage, can feel that it doesn’t make it to his eyes. He stays still under Eddie’s gaze, his eyes scanning Buck’s face for who knows what — hidden pain, fatigue, emotional distress. Knowing Eddie, it’s probably all three at the same time. But Buck gets to do his own cataloguing — Eddie’s hair still mused from his helmet, the mole below his left eye, the shadow of his stubble growing in — so he can’t complain. After a while, Eddie nudges Buck’s shin under the table with his foot, motioning toward the stairs with his head.

“Come on,” he says. “You’re coming home with me.”

“You should really buy a guy dinner first, Eds.” Buck says, because he may be exhausted, but he can’t just let Eddie get away with saying things like _that._

Eddie kicks his shin in response as he stands, and Buck hopes it’s enough to distract from the blush starting to grow on his cheeks.

He follows Eddie down the stairs to the locker room, grabbing his bag and heading out to the parking lot. He pauses halfway between Eddie’s truck and his Jeep, anxiety squeezing his insides in a firm grip. Eddie throws his bag in the back of the truck and pauses too when he sees Buck still 10 feet away.

“Look man,” Buck starts, shifting nervously on the balls of his feet. “You had a long shift too, I’m sure you want some alone time. I can just head home and we can—”

“Buck,” Eddie cuts him off. “ _I_ invited _you_ over. Chris is at a sleepover tonight, and I don’t really want to be alone right now, and I can tell you don’t either. If you really feel that bad, you can pick up dinner on the way and we’ll call it even.”

They’ve been friends for years, but it still always surprises Buck how well Eddie knows him. He can’t detangle his own mind enough to figure out what he needs half the time, but somehow Eddie always sees through the knots and loops. And he always _wants_ to give him what he needs, never seems put out or annoyed by how _much_ Buck needs sometimes. 

And he _doesn’t_ want to be alone right now. All he wants is to be with Eddie.

“Pizza or tacos?” he asks, and Eddie’s smile rivals the setting sun, loosening the tightness in Buck’s chest and filling it with butterflies instead.

~~~~~~~~~~

He’s not sure what he’s expecting when he walks into the Diaz house 45 minutes later, but it’s definitely not a mass of blankets surrounded by pillows on the floor in front of the TV where the coffee table usually is.

He turns to Eddie, who’s admiring his handy work. “You made a nest.”

Eddie nods. “I made a nest.”

“Is pizza allowed in the nest?”

“Pizza is, work clothes are not. You can borrow some sweats if you want.”

Buck hands off the pizza box to Eddie as he heads to his room. He digs through the bottom drawer of the dresser, pulling out a pair of joggers and an old Army hoodie he’s seen Eddie wear a million times. It’s soft and worn and smells like Eddie’s body wash, and he slips it over his head before he can think too hard about it. It’s a little snug over his shoulders, and the pants are a little short, but it’s worth it to feel like he’s surrounded by Eddie.

He goes back to the living room, now only lit by the floor lamp and the glow of the TV. Eddie’s already settled in, propped up on two pillows and wrapped in a quilt. Buck follows his lead, picking a fuzzy blue blanket he knows usually lives at the foot of Christopher’s bed. He pulls the pizza box toward him, and he’s halfway through a slice before he notices the movie Eddie has queued up.

“ _Hocus Pocus?_ Eds, it’s August.”

“Excuse you, this movie is good all year round. Plus, you said you hadn’t seen it since you were a kid, so we’re watching it.”

The movie starts before Buck can argue (not that he would), and they fall into a comfortable stream of jokes and commentary. As the movie plays, they subconsciously drift closer and closer together in their nest until they’re barely a hair apart from shoulder to ankle. It feels good, he always feels good when he’s this close to Eddie, but it doesn’t feel like _enough_ , like an itch he can’t quite reach. He wraps the blanket tighter around him, jostling his shoulder until it accidentally slips under Eddie’s and he freezes.

Oh.

 _There’s_ the itch. 

Buck swallows, tries not to twitch too much in case he spooks Eddie and he takes his warmth and the pressure away. Their shared heat leeches into his bones, and he feels himself relax for the first time in over a day. It should be pathetic, how much he craves being close to people, but he’s never really felt ashamed about it. It’s how he shows he cares, how he knows others care about him, and whether it was for a minute or for a night, it’s nice to have proof of that. And no matter how much he’s craved in the past, he’s always reached a limit, had his fill and was able to pull away no problem. 

But with Eddie, it’s _never_ enough. The brush of their shoulders when they walk side by side, hip checks as they move around the kitchen at the station, even now, pressed completely in each other’s space, Buck just wants _more_. Wants to bury himself in as much of Eddie as he can until he can’t feel anything else, because he knows Eddie will keep him safe. He’s the most secure thing Buck’s ever known.

Eddie pauses the movie after Bette Midler sings “I Put a Spell on You,” disentangling himself from the blankets to take the pizza boxes to the kitchen. Buck misses the feel of him as soon as he’s gone, the itch only getting worse. He watches Eddie go, eyes lingering on his arms, wondering how they’d feel wrapped around him instead of a blanket. He knows, sort of — they’ve hugged enough times for him to have experienced being fully enclosed in them. But, like always, he needed more.

He has a thought, then, and he can’t decide if it’s a good one or an absolutely terrible one.

_If you want it so bad, why don’t you ask?_

And, sure, he _could_ ask, and Eddie would probably go along with it as a “friend thing”, and Buck would get to be wrapped up in Eddie just like he wants, and everything would be fine. But Buck knows, has known since he felt his world shatter when that drill rig came down and buried Eddie alive, that a “friend thing” won’t cut it. He wants everything, and he thinks Eddie might want everything too, if the looks and touches and reluctance to be apart for more than two days is anything to go by.

So he _could_ ask, and it _could_ be fine.

But, it could _also_ be very not fine.

Buck’s still stuck in this loop of _what do I do what do I do_ when Eddie comes back and starts the movie back up. He’s back in his spot from the beginning of the night — only about three inches between them, but it feels like an endless chasm to Buck. Before he can talk himself out of it again, he grabs the remote and pauses the movie, staring straight ahead at the TV. If he looks at Eddie, he knows he’ll back down.

“Hey!” Eddie says. “Come on man, it’s almost over. You can pick the next one, I promise.”

“Eddie,” Buck says, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “I have to ask you something, and...just promise not to laugh, okay?”

“What’s going on, Buck?”

He licks his lips, takes a breath. “Can we cuddle?” he asks in a rush. There’s a second of silence, but it’s enough to send Buck spiraling. “I mean, it can totally be platonic, that’s fine, I just feel like I need it right now? But we don’t have to, it’s fine, forget it, let’s—”

He stops as he feels Eddie’s hand on his arm, turns away from the TV to see him sitting close again, watching him, looking almost as nervous as Buck feels. 

“Can it be...not platonic?” Eddie asks, and Buck feels his stomach swoop down to his knees.

He opens and closes his mouth, trying to get his brain to cooperate, before he finally stutters out, “Really?”

Eddie’s smile is soft and easy. “I don’t make blanket nests for just anyone, you know.”

Buck feels a blush crawl up his neck as he laughs, butterflies going into hyperspeed in his stomach. He shifts towards Eddie until there’s no more room between them and pauses, a little uncertain. Just because this is what he _wanted_ doesn’t mean he knows what the hell to do now that he’s _got it._

Eddie takes pity on him though, tugging Buck’s arm so it’s around his waist, rearranging them until Buck’s head is on his chest and he’s completely encircled in Eddie’s arms. He plays the movie again, and it takes a minute for Buck to focus on the rest of the story and not the feel of Eddie’s breath in his hair and the unbelievable contentment that overcomes him. They fall back into their commentary like normal, but now Buck can feel every time Eddie laughs in his own chest, and he’s pretty sure he’s never felt anything so wonderful.

The movie ends and they start _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ (“You _said_ I could pick, you can’t take it back now.”), warm and happy in their cocoon. Buck dozes off halfway through, waking just as the credits roll. He tilts his head back to see Eddie watching him again, his fingers lazily dragging through Buck’s curls. If he were a cat, he’d absolutely be purring.

But because he is who he is, there’s also a trickle of doubt making its way down his spine, the fear that this will all dissolve the minute he walks out the door looming in the back of his mind. He’s finally surrounded by Eddie in every way, and now that he knows what it really feels like, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let it go. He searches Eddie’s eyes for any sign of regret or discomfort, but all he sees is the same happiness and peace that he feels.

Still. He has to ask. He has to _know._

“This isn’t just for tonight, right?”

Eddie just smiles softly, fingers coming down from his curls to trace his jawline, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He stops under Buck’s chin, tilting his head up so their eyes are level. He leans down slowly, probably trying to give Buck an out, but Buck just meets him halfway, his arm around his waist pulling in tighter. It’s a sweet kiss, soft and slow, Eddie’s lips fitting against Buck’s like they were made for it. They somehow fit themselves closer together, lost in the pulls and drags, and Buck thinks he could live in this moment, feeling and tasting and _loving_ Eddie, for the rest of time.

They have to pull away eventually, but Buck keeps his eyes closed and he tries to commit every sensation to memory. He opens them and is greeted by Eddie’s pink cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, and it takes a good amount of self control to not dive right back in.

Eddie’s hand, still under his chin, moves to cup his cheek, tracing softly over the skin under his eye.

“No,” Eddie whispers. “This is for much more than tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell about these good soft bois on [tumblr](https://tylerhunklin.tumblr.com/) with me!!


End file.
